Waking Up Alone
by AniRay
Summary: James wakes up to an empty bed. This is what happens next. Written before 3x06. Oneshot


He knew she was gone before he opened his eyes. It was like the air was too light...or too heavy. It wasn't right. He could feel the warmth of the sunlight coming through the window. It was late. He should have been up hours ago. He usually was.

Flashes of last night reminded him of why he had slept in. Teresa's hands fisting the sheets. The breathy sighs she let out. Her thighs wrapped around his waist. Dark curls spilling across his pillow as her head thrashed against them.

He tried to bite back the smile, but it was a pointless endeavor and he had never believed in wasting energy. But the smile faded as his eyes opened and he was faced with the empty spot beside him. The sheets were still rumpled from where she had been but her clothes were all gone. Laying there made him feel lazy. Hoping she was coming back made him feel...

It didn't matter. He threw the covers back as he sat up, letting his feet hit the floor while he cracked his neck. He could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. Probably Pote. His love of cooking was...unexpected. But then James had his secret pleasures, too. He pushed that thought away. His eyes went to the clock on the nightstand. 10:00 am. Late. He stood up padding over to his closet to grab a pair of jeans before moving to the dresser to pick out a shirt and some underwear.

He didn't linger in the shower. He got dressed quickly. It was a military thing. Something he hadn't broken himself of yet. He doubted he ever would. What was wrong with being efficient? KellyAnn sat at the island eating cereal. Pote was at the table slicing into the biggest omelet James had ever seen. It made sense though- Pote was a big guy. Teresa wasn't in the kitchen. He didn't dwell on it.

KellyAnn popped out of her seat and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn't _like_ it- he never liked being bombarded by another person- but it was still _nice_. "I am so glad they didn't take you. I was so worried. And thank you for coming in like that. You know, that knight in black armor type thing." He tried to keep up with the rest of her babbling, but it was difficult. So he just smiled and nodded as he poured himself some juice and grabbed a banana. "...And you aren't even listening to me. But that's okay. I get it. My daddy always said I talked too much for anyone to keep up." His back was turned so KellyAnn wouldn't see if he smiled a little.

The scraping of Pote's chair against the floor pulled James' attention to the other person in the room. There was a stiffness in the way Pote stood. James was immediately on guard. Military, cartel, he wasn't sure when one stopped and the other began. He just knew that to drop your guard could mean death. Pote ambled over to the sink, every movement precise. He rinsed his plate, put it in the dishwasher. He washed his glass, put it on the counter to dry. James hated when he did that. He didn't say anything.

"Teresa had to go out. Something about getting dinner." James didn't miss the way Pote's eyes zeroed in on him. The disdainful sneer was more than obvious as well. "I offered to go. She was tired. Stayed up working all night." James saw KellyAnn slip out of the room as Pote's tone got colder. "At least she never went to her room. Know anything about that, Cabrón?"

It took more energy than he liked to keep his expression blank. Pote didn't trust him. Fine. Pote was loyal to Teresa first and only. Fine. But James didn't owe him anything and what Teresa chose to share was her decision. So he said nothing. He had undergone far more intimidating interrogations than anything Pote could throw at him in this kitchen.

Pote took a step closer, his broken hand sliding to the gun at his hip. James didn't move. He knew Pote wouldn't shoot him. Knew that even if he tried, he'd miss. "You hurt her- you betray her again..."

James fought to keep from rolling his eyes. "We've had this conversation. Why don't you just shoot me now and get it out of your system. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not betraying anyone. And I would never hurt her. Either accept it or pull that gun you keep twitching for." He turned and headed for his office. He heard the safety click off. He waited- gave Pote the shot. It didn't come. He kept walking.

* * *

It had been hours. Four to be exact. James fought down the urge to panic. But he knew. Something was wrong. The others felt it too. KellyAnn was talking faster than usual. He didn't think that was possible. He also didn't hear anything she was saying. Pote kept pacing in front of the windows- eyes glued to the driveway. Somehow his movement was more annoying than KellyAnn's chatter. James didn't move. He needed to focus. His thoughts were too fast, too jumbled. He wasn't effective this way. Stop. Sit. Breathe. Focus.

After another thirty minutes his mind had cleared enough for one thought to make sense. Cameras. He pulled up the feed around his property. The hidden cameras along the public road too. He had never liked surprises. He went through the footage. It didn't take long. She was in the car- he zoomed in- she was smiling. It made something ache a little to see it. Then she was slowing down. Stopping. Men with guns surrounded her. She got in the van. They drove off. Then nothing. For six and a half hours.

He didn't need to replay it, but he did. He was already sure of what happened. He recognized a few faces from La Comisión. He recognized more from Camila. "Camila has her." KellyAnn stopped talking and James watched as her face lost what little color it had. Pote clenched his fist- the broken one- then stomped over to where James sat. He didn't say anything as James replayed the footage of her being taken. By the way his face hardened, he recognized the men too.

"We get her back. Then we make that bitch pay." It wouldn't be that simple. James knew it. Pote knew it. But it wasn't for James to talk the other man down- remind him to use his head. His job was to make sure that Teresa came back alive and in one piece. He would handle Pote, if it came to that, later. He watched as Pote stalked off.

KellyAnn came over to stand in front of him. She seemed nervous. She should be. If this went sideways none of them would make it out alive. And she would be alone and defenseless against Camila's rage. "She never talked about you. She talked about Pote and Tony, Brenda and Guero. She even talked about Epifanio a little. But whenever I asked about you she got real quiet." James kept his expression neutral. He didn't know where this was going, but for all her babble KellyAnn was smart. And perceptive. "I think you were the one thing about her old life she couldn't put a label on. Now, I don't know what you are to her or what she is to you. But it doesn't matter because you have to save her. You have to bring her home. Okay?"

He wanted to brush off her demand. He wanted to explain that he didn't need to be told to bring her home. He wanted to ensure Teresa would be safe. But he didn't- he _couldn't_ \- do any of those things. For too many reasons. So he told KellyAnn what he had told Guero in Bolivia. "Teresa will keep herself alive. She will save herself. She always has." He could see the little redhead gearing up for a fight. They didn't have time for a fight. "But I'll be there to make sure her plan works."

He didn't like the way her smile made him feel like things would be okay. He didn't like the way her hand rested on his arm. It was the wrong smile. The wrong hand. It was wrong. But it wasn't her fault. He gave a sharp nod and turned away. He had to get ready. Guns. Ammunition. Knives. Medical supplies. The list grew and got shortened with each step he took. Until it was time. Until he was behind the wheel. Until Ivan was giving him co-ordinances to the woman whose touch he could still feel on his skin.

* * *

Teresa was alive. Guero was not. He couldn't feel bad about it. He looked at Teresa in the backseat and knew he should feel bad. But it was Guero and not Teresa and he didn't feel bad. Pote kept looking at her. She didn't like it. It made her feel weak. He understood. He understood Pote too. He just wanted her to be alright. She wasn't. She wouldn't be for a while. But eventually she would be again.

He saw her the way she had been when they found her. Shocked expression. Blood on her face and clothes. He had thought it was hers. Then he saw Guero. Pote went to her. He didn't. He wasn't who she needed. So he took out the others. Quick. Clean. One to the head for each of them. Then he turned back to her. He watched her the way he had after La Capitana. After the Death Road. He needed to know how much damage had been done. Then and now the answer was 'Too much'.

"He's dead because of me." He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. Because the truth was- she wasn't wrong. She just wasn't right either. She wouldn't accept that though. "Camila told me I would watch the love of my life die..." Her voice was barely a whisper but it was steady. A lack of volume, not an abundance of feeling. Then her eyes met his. "He wasn't. But he's still dead." He looked away. Not right. Not wrong.

That was two hours ago. Now they were almost home. Tonto had picked up her car. James still knew when they passed where she was taken. He glanced at her through the mirror again. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Good. "Should I take her to your room?" Pote's voice was angry, but unsure. James didn't know how much of the anger was truly directed at him.

It didn't matter though. He could handle Pote and his temper. "No. Let her decide what she wants." That was the thought he had to hold on to. He wanted her with him. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to make her forget Guero and the pain he caused her. But he would do what she needed. Always. Besides, he couldn't protect her from this. It wasn't a bullet he could take for her. Pote grunted. In agreement or annoyance, James didn't know. He didn't care. Teresa was his priority.

Pote carried her inside. James let him. Pote took her to her room. James let him. Pote wiped the blood off of her face and hands. James let him. Because she needed that. He left her room and went to the kitchen. KellyAnn was waiting. "She's fine. Physically. Emotionally...We have to wait and see." KellyAnn nodded. It was the most somber he had ever seen her. "Guero's dead. She had to watch. She'll need you." He didn't like the way she looked at him. He felt too exposed.

"Won't she need you too?" He gave her a hard stare. Said nothing. There was nothing to say. Until she came to him, he would keep his distance. There was too much history. And grief was an inexplicable force. He wasn't going anywhere. He would wait for her to know what she wanted. Neither of them could handle anything else right now.

* * *

She did come to him. And he let her even though it wasn't what she needed. She wanted to forget and he wanted to hold her. He let her ride him. He let her bite and scratch and be just a little too rough. He let her use him to let out the emotions she didn't know how to deal with. And when it was over he made her stay. He held her hand but not her body. He didn't speak. Neither did she. And when she finally slept he slipped out from the sheets. He tugged a t-shirt over her nakedness. He got her a glass of water. He made sure there was enough light for her to see by. Because she would wake soon. She would leave soon. He went to his office. He didn't want to watch her go.

Pote punched him the next morning. It hurt like a bitch, but he took it. Let him think what he wanted. James knew what he was guilty of and what he wasn't. KellyAnn tried to step in. They both ignored her. Teresa rested a hand on Pote's arm. He stepped back but James knew this wasn't over. Not yet. Breakfast was silent. It made the back of his neck itch. Teresa didn't look at him once. Pote didn't stop. KellyAnn was trying to hold back tears. He left them to their emotions.

It was late when he got back. Two o'clock in the morning. He had stayed away. It was funny. He couldn't be at his own house anymore. Teresa had taken over without trying. He wanted to mind. He couldn't. The lights were all off. He knew someone was awake, though. Pote sat by the front door. James didn't let it show that he was tired. He didn't let it show that he was vulnerable. That got you killed. He closed the door- locked it. Then he waited.

Pote's voice came through the darkness. "You shouldn't have touched her." He was right. Last night shouldn't have happened. He kept silent. "She trusted you. And you used her." He grit his teeth to keep from speaking. It didn't matter how Pote saw it. It mattered how Teresa felt about it. "Then you left her in the middle of the night like a pinche pendejo. She ran to me crying."

He didn't want to hear that. He didn't know what to do with the information. He decided to ignore it. He needed time to process and he couldn't do that now. "Pecas is going to retaliate. We need to be ready." He couldn't see Pote, but his anger was still obvious. "She's vulnerable right now. We need to be ready to protect her from La Comisión and herself." He knew this would mess up the tentative peace he and Pote had. He couldn't let himself worry about it. Emotion had been ruling everyone for too long.

He heard Pote stand up. He knew he was walking away. "There's more to her than her body, Cabrón." It was a low blow. James didn't deserve it. He took it anyway. He listened as Pote's footsteps faded. His mind was racing. He needed to quiet it. Stillness wouldn't work this time, though. So he went to his room. He didn't pause at Teresa's door like he wanted. He couldn't think about her yet.

He pushed open his door. Someone was in the room already. Not a threat. Teresa. He could see her brown curls contrasted against his white pillows. She wasn't sleeping. She wasn't speaking either. Options- he had two. Ignore her and go to bed. Talk to her about last night. He pulled his shirt off. Tossed it in the hamper as he passed. He grabbed a clean shirt and pulled it on. His shoes came off next. His pants followed. The bedside light came on.

"Why did you leave?"

Simple question. Simple answer. "I needed some air. Breakfast was too tense this morning." He looked over his shoulder. Her expression told him she wasn't fooled. He sighed. "Last time we slept together you left before I woke up. Ended up kidnapped. I knew you'd leave again eventually." He watched as her eyes dropped with guilt. She didn't need to feel guilty. "You needed sex last night. I needed you to sleep. Everything else is on hold." He walked to the bed. Slid under the covers. He closed his eyes.

The sheets rustled. She moved closer. Her hand was on his waist. "I needed to know you were safe. Then you were gone when I woke up." He let his hand cover hers over his stomach. "Thanks for the shirt. And the water. You didn't have to do that." He didn't like how unsure she sounded. He didn't like that he was just as unsure as she was.

"I'm safe. And I'm here when you're ready to talk. I can give you space. I can keep you close. Just tell me what you need, Teresa." He shouldn't have said that. He should reaffirm their professional relationship. It was too late now. And he meant it. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder. He could smell her shampoo. Citrus. He liked it.

"I think I need both." Still too unsure. He squeezed her hand. "I think if I can focus on business during the day I'll be ok." She wasn't finished. He could hear her hesitation. He waited. "And then maybe at night... This is good for me. I want to be here with you this way, James."

He didn't respond for a long time. His brain was loud and cluttered again. The things he wanted. The things she needed. How to make it work. How to keep the business running. Where Camila and La Comisión and De La Pena came in. He opened his eyes. Let his head fall to the side. Her face was anxious. Her hair fanned out on his pillow behind her. She looked fragile. She looked beautiful. His mind quieted. "This is good for me too." He let his eyes go to the ceiling. "Get some sleep, Teresa. We have plans to make tomorrow."

He closed his eyes. She rolled over- turned off the light. He waited. She settled back against his side. He waited. She wrapped her arm around him. He waited. Her breathing slowed- evened. He smiled. He slept.

* * *

When he woke up in the morning she was there. Her hair was in his face. Citrus. He liked it. Her legs were tangled with his. One hand was curled around his shoulder. The other was resting over his heart. He opened his eyes. Looked at her sleeping.

She looked peaceful.

He was glad.


End file.
